NSO Chapter 14

I don't own Pokemon.

Zenith opened his eyes, feeling the chilling surface of a stone floor pressing against his fur. Gone were the comfy blankets beneath him when he had conked out on his bed, along with his soft mattress.

"I don't think I'm at home anymore."

Pulling himself into a sitting position, Zenith surveyed his surroundings. He was lying on a circle of stone, with grassy expanses stretching out in every direction as far as the eye could see. However, all kinds of colour, from red to indigo, had been wiped from the place, leaving everything in various shades of grey, giving it a bleak, desolate atmosphere.

I think I'm in a dream.

He waited for a witty remark from Dialga, but there was no response.

If I'm going to find a way out of my 'dream', I guess I should start walking.

Getting to his paws, Zenith stepped off the stone circle, choosing a random direction to walk in. The further he walked, the taller the grass grew, until the blades of grass were so tall that they towered over his head, so thick that it was impossible to see more than two paces ahead of him. However, with every step forward that he took, the grass wilted under Zenith's outstretched paw, disintegrating into dust. Looking over his shoulder, Zenith realised that he had left a bare, ashen path in his wake, a dirt path completely devoid of grass.

It took the Umbreon a good amount of walking until he spotted something ahead of him that wasn't grass or dirt. It was an hourglass, hidden at the base of the grass. Two brown, circle-shaped pieces of oak wood stood out in stark contrast to the colourless world and its surroundings. The golden sand within the glass glowed brightly like a beacon, catching Zenith's eye.. Running forward, Zenith picked the hourglass up in his paws to examine it closely. With all the oddities in this place, to discover another was no surprise to Zenith by now. The sand only seemed to flow one way, slowly trickling from top to bottom in the same direction regardless of how he turned the antique. There also seemed to be more sand at the 'top' than the 'bottom', where there were only a few grains. There were also no labels or words on the hourglass, so the Umbreon had no idea what it was counting down to, except for a clue.

There was a letter 'D' carved into the wood at the 'top' of the hourglass, Zenith assumed it to be the starting letter of a word. But before he could figure it out, a cold wind suddenly started up, whipping against his face and stinging it with its unusually cold air. Another thing to note was that the grass blades were strangely still, ignoring the push of the wind. But the hourglass, which had weighed at least a few kilograms, was wrenched out of his paws by the strong gusts, soaring into the distance weightlessly. Zenith watched it fly, and the winds died down once it had floated out of his view, silence descending on the field once more as the howling of the wind left with its source.

Well, I'd better continue walking.

Picking up his pace, Zenith continued to notice more and more strange things. The grass was starting to slant diagonally, the blades all pointing in the opposite direction he was walking in. He knew that he was in a dream, but all this strangeness was starting to make him feel uncomfortable. With this piece of information stuck in the back of his mind, Zenith's slow jog quickened into a run, the grass ahead of him already wilting and disappearing even before his paws touched the ground.

With how fast he was running, it didn't take long before Zenith noticed the grass in front of him was opening up into a circle-shaped clearing. He slowed his steps as he walked into the grass-free circle, all senses on full alert at the sudden change in ambience. This WAS his dream, after all. Anything could happen.

A sweet scent permeated the air, alerting Zenith to the middle of the clearing. There lay a single rose bush. The many leaves and stems that made up the bush were a dull grey, just like the rest of the environment, causing the only distinctive feature of the bush to stand out even more. It was a single red rose, It was beautiful, and the way every single petal was arranged made the lone flower the pinnacle of perfection. It was redder than Zenith's eye, as crimson as the colour of blood. It also seemed to be the source of the smell that had caught Zenith's attention.

Speaking of the Umbreon, a strange feeling had come over him ever since he had laid eyes on the rose. The flower seemed to capture his gaze, and he couldn't bring himself to look away. A warmth seemed to seep through Zenith's bones and body as he stared, making him feel comfortable and relaxed as if he was sitting next to a roaring fireplace. The sweet scent grew stronger and wreathed itself around him. It drew Zenith closer to the bush like a Venomoth to a flame, the Umbreon unable to get enough of the smell. Subconsciously, Zenith started to walk towards the bush slowly, his paws dragging him forward until he was directly in front of the rose.

Rose… pretty… must… touch…

By now, the hypnotising scent and colour of the attractive rose had already invaded Zenith's mind, dampening his senses and clouding his mind. All he could think of was how good the rose looked, how good it smelled, and how he REALLY needed to touch it. His guard down, the Umbreon raised a paw, and gently stroked a petal on the rose.

The effect was instantaneous. Stems immediately unravelled themselves from the bush and wrapped themselves around Zenith's limbs, lifting him up into the air. The thorns that covered the stems pierced through his skin, sinking into his flesh and snagging themselves on his fur, ripping out clumps of it out as they moved.

The sudden sharp pain jerked Zenith out of his daze, where he realised his predicament. The haze that once enveloped his mind dissipated as it was replaced by a thousand tiny needles of pain, piercing into every surface of him they could find. He tried to struggle, but there were too many stems, too thick to break through and too strong to overpower. More stems started to wrap themselves around Zenith's body, bringing him closer and closer to the bush, which had opened up a hole, and every inch of it was lined with thorns. Zenith winced as more thorns dug into his body, creating small, shallow puncture wounds as they refused to release their brutal hold on his flesh.

For a dream, this feels real. But it's only a dream, right?

Zenith looked to the left and realised that he still held the rose in his clenched paw, which he must have pulled out somehow. It looked so pure, innocent and… beautiful, but Zenith knew that it was the cause of this bush dragging him into an early, thorny grave. . However, no matter how hard he tried to let go of the red flower, some part of his brain seemed to reject the command and clung on tighter to the stem, his paw now bleeding heavier compared to the rest of his body from how hard he was gripping the stem and thorns of the rose.

The stems started to lower him down slowly into the hole in the bush, with more growing above him, hiding him from view. Now only his front paws were the only things outside the bush.

"Someone help me!" Zenith managed to cry out these three words, able to speak again, an ability that had evaded him for what seemed like eternity, along with his ability to use his moves.

A blast of water hit the rose square in its head, causing a petal to fall off and drop to the ground. The bush halted its movements, stems frozen mid-action as if stunned by the sudden attack. As if or on purpose or by accident, the stems had grown in a way that formed a peephole, allowing Zenith to look out of the rose bush, and another flower entered his field of vision. It was a water lily, as blue as the sky. For some reason, through all his panicking, a small part of Zenith trusted the lily, trusting it to help him out of this mess. Desperate, Zenith made a grab for the lily, his paw grabbing onto its waxy stem. With a swift yank, the blue flower pulled Zenith upwards, the Umbreon feeling the rose slip out of his left paw.

Zenith sat up on his bed sharply, as if the momentum in his dream had carried over into reality. He glanced back at his sweat-stained sheets and heaved a sigh of relief. The dream was nothing but a dream, none of it was real. He was safe, untouchable from killer rose bushes here in the waking world. Looking at his bedside clock, Zenith realised that he had only slept for a few hours, and it would be a few more before the sun rose again. After a few more tosses and turns on the bed, Zenith gave up all attempts at sleep. The dream was just too vivid, seemed too real to try and fall back asleep, lest he encounter something similar again.

But as Zenith leapt off his bed, he yelped in surprise as his left paw suddenly stung at the pressure that was placed on it. Upon closer inspection, Zenith noticed that there were many small wounds in his palm, oozing minuscule droplets of blood. They seemed to be…

Thorn wounds. This shouldn't be possible. That was no ordinary dream. Could it have been a vision? But that would mean that everything in my 'vision' must have a meaning to it.

Zenith racked his brain, trying to remember the details of his 'vision', but everything that he could recall made no sense to him. The fact that the details were already fading from his memory didn't help either.

Grass wilting…

Hourglass with a 'D' on it...

A rose that looks and smells nice...

Thorny rose bush trying to kill me because I touched the rose...

A blue water lily saving me...

Well, I can't make much sense of this, but I guess only time will tell.

Hey, you're finally awake. What did I miss?

Nothing.

Had a nice rest? Good dreams?

….no. I'm going to make breakfast.